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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22849630">The Beginning of Us</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionChemist/pseuds/PotionChemist'>PotionChemist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Memory of You Universe [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, F/M, Slow Dancing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 17:41:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22849630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionChemist/pseuds/PotionChemist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Pansy see each other again and sparks fly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Memory of You Universe [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630960</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Love Fest 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Beginning of Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriDogMom/gifts">TriDogMom</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For TriDogMom - I just wanted to say thank you for all the help you gave me while planning and writing the initial chapters of The Memory of You over the summer. Thank you for being tolerant as I experimented with different POVs and tenses! </p><p>This piece was written for #LoveFest2020, #TeamAphrodite</p><p>Thank you to my beta, BreathOfThePhoenix, for making herself available to edit sprint words all day. She's the real MVP.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pansy — May 2001</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I stood in front of the mirror, examining the gown I was wearing far more critically than I normally would. While I had a closet full of these kinds of dresses, I rarely cared which one I wore. But after last night… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just the memory of Harry Potter’s lips on mine made me shiver, and I was going to make sure he noticed me again. Smoothing my hands over the tight red satin, I made sure there were no unflattering lines. I’d forgone both knickers and a bra, relying on Sticking Charms to hold everything in place. As I traced the deep v-neckline of the dress with my finger, applying one more charm, I imagined what it would be like if Harry was here to do it for me, to touch me while he made sure I’d stay covered, that my bare skin would be for his eyes only.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Twisting and turning, I examined myself from every angle. The dress had no back to speak of, only straps that criss-crossed between my shoulderblades. It was a mermaid style, fitting me like a second skin. There was a slit in the skirt, stopping mid-thigh, to allow enough movement to walk. Looking down at my feet, already housed in four-inch heels complete with matching red bottoms, I smiled at my wardrobe choices. The shoes were made by a Muggle designer and were fucking uncomfortable, but they made my arse look even better than usual.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Envisioning emerald eyes focusing on me all night, I applied matching lipstick, hoping he’d kiss it off of me, that it would stain his lips and everyone would know he had found someone to move on from Ginny Weasley with. In my mind, I could see red smears on the skin of his neck, his shirt collar, his earlobe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I noticed my skin flushing in the mirror and shoved the thoughts down, knowing I could be working myself up for no reason at all. Sure, he’d said he’d forgiven me, but I wouldn’t blame him if it wasn’t true. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Daphne had told me that Harry Potter was checking me out, I’d nearly laughed. I thought that as soon as he realised who I was, he’d run from the bar screaming. However, he’d walked straight over to us and started talking animatedly with Daphne. He’d explained how he was sick of going places where he was fawned over and how he thought coming to a pub frequented by the former Slytherins would be different, how Draco and Blaise treated him like a normal person rather than a hero.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Daphne had left the two of us alone, and I’d wanted to kill her. I could tell he was dying to know why I wasn’t being the least bit friendly to him, and then we’d have to have </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> conversation. The one I’d been dreading for years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he said he’d forgiven me a long time ago, I was shocked. Pleasantly surprised, but still shocked. I wouldn’t have forgiven me so easily. In fact, he’d been right — I hadn’t forgiven myself at all. If I stopped to imagine what life would’ve been like if Harry Potter had been killed that day, shudders ran up and down my spine. Pureblood or not, I wouldn’t have wanted to see more of my classmates die at the hands of the Death Eaters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I focused on my reflection again. Every part of my appearance screamed </span>
  <em>
    <span>look at me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, so there was no way he wouldn’t see me. Every eye in the room would be drawn to me, but I only cared about his. And I found myself wondering why I was so desperate for him, why I wanted him so badly. I hadn’t harboured a secret crush on him at school or anything like that — I wasn’t like Draco, secretly pining after a member of the Golden Trio, watching from afar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was it because earning his forgiveness would help others to forgive me? Or was it the way he’d filled out? He no longer looked like the underfed teenage boy who didn’t know how to alter his clothes to fit properly. Maybe it was the way he somehow saw through the bitchy princess persona I used as a shield.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a deep breath, I strode towards my Floo, heading to one event I always felt I didn’t belong at.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*~*~*~*~*</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My heels clicked loudly on the stone floors inside the castle. As I walked the hallways of Hogwarts, some of the portraits sneered at me, recognising me as the teenaged girl who had been a right shrew to nearly everyone while I was a student. I ignored them — what the fuck did it matter what witches and wizards who had been dead for years thought of me?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Entering the Great Hall for this event had been daunting the first time, but this was my third time, and I was determined to prove that I belonged here just as much as everyone else did. Like Potter had said, I needed to forgive myself, and part of that meant moving on and not taking shit from anyone who tried to hold me down. My eyes scanned the room, looking for anyone I knew. I saw Granger standing beside Ginny Weasley, both women looking rather uncomfortable. Following their line of sight, I saw Ron snogging Luna Lovegood enthusiastically. I nearly laughed out loud; the pairing was so incredibly strange that I never would’ve thought of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, then again, I never would’ve imagined myself lusting after Harry Potter or kissing him in a bar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a moment of consideration, I decided that approaching his ex and best friend so soon was likely unwise. They’d be wondering what the fuck I was doing anyway, assuming I’d be coming over to put them down about something. I couldn’t start off on the wrong foot with Granger, especially given our history. Walking deeper into the room, I finally spotted someone safe to greet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Headmistress McGonagall, how lovely to see you!” I genuinely meant it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widened, likely taking in the violently red hue of my gown. “Miss Parkinson, I never would’ve thought you’d come to an event like this in red,” she teased. “I do hope you’re doing well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am, thank you,” I replied. “And I just wanted to thank you again for showing me those advanced switching spells. You were right — they made fabric transfer so much easier. There were no wrinkles to speak of on the armchair I reupholstered last week.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The older woman beamed at me, and it filled me with pride. I’d made amends with my former professor shortly after the war, needing a transfiguration master to teach me spells for my new business. I’d become somewhat of an interior designer, but I also made all my own furniture pieces for my projects. I personalised everything for my clients and applied the necessary transfigurations and charms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s wonderful. They’re definitely tricky, but with proper wandwork, they’ll come out beautifully every time,” she began. “Did you come here alone, Pansy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I nodded. “Yes. I’m sure some of the others from my year will be here soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I already saw Mr. Malfoy and his parents. The Greengrasses were with them, as well. I’m assuming you’re still friends with Daphne?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am. The Greengrasses are following the Malfoys around because Draco and Astoria have been betrothed for years and he’s not agreed to a wedding date yet,” I explained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I didn’t miss the scandalised look on her face. The pureblood marriage contracts were incredibly old-fashioned; my parents hadn’t tried to force me into one, wanting me to be free to make my own decisions. Daphne had broken hers, forfeiting her inheritance and moving out on her own. She had a job at the Ministry and was living a simpler life. Her parents hadn’t disowned her fully, but they were still upset with her choice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s… interesting,” she answered, glancing over my shoulder. I assumed she was watching the Malfoys and the Greengrasses, observing the interactions between Draco and Astoria, but then she smiled widely. “Ahhh, Mr. Potter! How lovely to see you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At his name, at the knowledge that he was standing right behind me, goosebumps broke out over my skin. I felt my cheeks heat, and McGonagall looked at me with sympathy, likely thinking that I was uncomfortable for a very different reason.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I prayed I’d transfigured my dress well enough that my hardening nipples wouldn’t show.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning to face him, I saw his reaction when he realised it was me. His lips parted and his eyes roamed up and down my body. We were frozen for a moment, just taking each other in. He hadn’t shaved his face, and the scruffy look suited him. It wasn’t my usual preference, but fuck, I was imagining the feel of his facial hair rubbing against the insides of my thighs. Against my cunt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clearing his throat, he stepped forward, holding out his hand in greeting. I took it, the inappropriate thoughts going through my mind urging me to touch him in any way.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Miss Parkinson,” he said, raising my knuckles to his lips. “So wonderful to see you again. Red is a lovely color on you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His green eyes smouldered at me, and I knew he was pleased. My heels made me a bit taller than him, but I didn’t care. It was clear that he didn’t, either. Though he was Harry fucking Potter — he didn’t need to be tall to command the attention of a room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he dropped my hand, I felt a pang of loss, though I knew he was moving to greet McGonagall, as well. She embraced him like a son, murmuring something in his ear and making him chuckle. As soon as he released her, the music started up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go. Why don’t you two dance? The whole purpose of this event is unity, and I cannot think of two better people to kick things off,” she commanded with a smirk. “You’re young and should have some fun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looked to me, raising an eyebrow. “What do you say, Parkinson? Feel up to risking your toes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I felt my lips morph into a smile. “I guess I could take that chance, if you’ll call me Pansy. After all, it’s not like it would be the end of the world as we know it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Green eyes laughing and sparkling like emeralds, he took my hand once more, and eyes followed us to the centre of the dance floor. When his arm wrapped around my waist, I wasn’t expecting him to pull me flush against his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And what I felt when my body pressed against his, well, it wasn’t quite what I had expected. He was hard inside his robes and I gasped in surprise. He was thick and long and my inappropriate thoughts escalated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That dress,” he murmured, “is going to be the fucking death of me. I don’t know if I want to wank to you wearing it or tear it off of you and fuck you until you’re screaming my name.” I felt my eyes widen, and he smirked at me. “What, Pansy? You didn’t expect this reaction? I’m sure you planned this get-up carefully.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t expect dirty talk from the Chosen One,” I said, and I could hear the breathlessness of my voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned in closer to whisper in my ear. “I usually don’t talk to women like this, but you’ve really inspired some fantasies with that dress. Merlin, are you even wearing knickers? I couldn’t see a single line.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Internally cheering myself on, I replied, “I’m just wearing the dress and the shoes. Nothing else.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He groaned in my ear. “How many people are watching us right now?”</span>
  <span><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Realising I hadn’t been paying attention, I looked up, surveying the room at large. “Nearly everyone,” I answered. “I can pull away if you—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I felt him breathe deeply, his nose nearly touching my neck. “You smell so fucking good. What is this perfume?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s something I make for myself,” I told him. “My mother showed me how to extract scents from plants, and I messed around with combinations until I found one that suited me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Oh, it suits you.” Pausing for a moment, he pulled back and looked me straight in the eyes. His pupils had expanded and his groin was still firmly pressed against me. I wasn’t sure if the throbbing I could feel was coming from his cock or my clit. “Can I kiss you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right now? In front of all these people?” I asked, surprised that he would want to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking over my shoulder as he led me around the dance floor, he said, “No less than fifty men are staring at your bare back right now, and they’re looking down to your arse at every opportunity.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I contemplated my words and his hands gripped me tighter. I never would’ve imagined a jealous, possessive streak in Harry Potter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you do, there’s really no going back. It’ll start all kinds of rumours and people still don’t care for me—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He silenced me with a kiss, and it was hotter and harder than the one we’d shared the previous night. We stopped moving and stood frozen in the centre of the floor, his hands roaming up and down my back as his tongue fucked my mouth. I could feel myself getting wet and I wished that it wasn’t May, that all of the students were at home so I could take him down to my old dormitory or to the Quidditch pitch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>We broke apart slowly, our eyes fixed on one another, ignoring the stares around us. “Don’t worry, Pansy,” he breathed into my ear. “I’m well aware this is the beginning of so many things.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s the beginning of us,” I stated, and he just nodded. With a steamy look, I added, “And I’ll be taking you home tonight, just so you know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a smirk, he led me off the dance floor and towards a flabbergasted Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy. For once, I’d managed to shock my male friends, and I mentally patted myself on the back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
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